


HG&CC - A Chance Meeting

by sarhea



Series: Ripples in Water [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 08:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarhea/pseuds/sarhea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment in Hermione’s life before she receives her Hogwarts letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	HG&CC - A Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Pre-Hogwarts, the books. This is fiction and may contain disturbing ideas. Children talking with complete strangers.   
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and co, J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Carlisle Cullen and co, Stephanie Meyer does. I’m simply playing with the characters and ‘verses, not making money.

Hermione Granger was a very mature almost eleven year old girl. Currently she was a bit lost, but she was certain she wouldn’t be for long. She was very good at research and finding obscure information. And if her ‘Foders Guide to Barcelona’ failed then she could always ask a shopkeeper. She could speak both Spanish and French fluently, and it wasn’t like it was her first time exploring a European city by herself. Her parents did not like it but she had persuaded them she was mature and responsible enough to look after herself. At least during the day time. It was twilight now.

A small furrow creased her brow as she tried to determine the quickest way back to the hotel. The dentistry conference events would be wrapping up within an hour and she promised her parents she would be back so they could have dinner together. Hermione was used to looking after herself while her parents participated and attended the variety of lectures and workshops associated with such a conference. She felt a bit lonely but she was the one to insist on joining them. She hadn’t wanted to spend the last weeks of summer alone apart from being looked in on by a neighbour. Most of the other attendees did have children but they were much older (chronologically only) than herself. And Hermione knew from experience teenagers were rarely kind to one younger and smarter than themselves. So she spent her free time exploring museums and galleries while her parents were busy, like she did in London. She spoke the local language, had a good guide book and local transit guide. She didn’t need anyone.

“Hello little one.”

She stiffened slightly and looked up before stiffening for an entirely different reason. The man speaking to her was perfect. He had to be a model for a Renaissance angel. Or an actor. Smooth strong features, full lips, pale blonde hair swept back and bright honey gold eyes. Hermione knew she should be running away. He was a stranger and he could be a very Bad man, but something deep inside insisted otherwise. So she did not run and in fact responded to his greeting.

“Hello sir.”

He gave her curious concerned look. “Are you all right?”

Hermione was surprised. “Yes. Why are you asking? Is something wrong with me?” She looked down at herself to see if her clothes had somehow become dirty or stained.

“Not at all dear. I’m just concerned.” He gave her a considering look. “You are rather young to be out by yourself.”

Oh. One of those. “I can look after myself,” Hermione told the blonde angel.

He looked surprised. “You are too young,” he told her.

“I’m mature for my age,” she informed him firmly. “Everyone says so and my parents agree. Besides it is not my first time exploring by myself.”

He looked scandalized. “Your parents let you?”

Hermione giggled. “ _I speak the local language fluently_ ,” she told him in Spanish, “ _And I have a very good guide book and transit map_ ,” she added in French.

He looked impressed. “ _And what about the third one?_ ” he asked in Italian.

“ _Of course. Learn one Romance language and the other two comes quickly_ ,” she answered in Italian. “ _I just started learning Greek_ ,” she informed him in more stilted accents.

He gave her a curious considering look. “I am impressed,” he finally said in English. “Your parents must be very proud of you.” Hermione just shrugged. She knew her parents were proud of her but she didn’t like to boast of it. “Are they waiting for you?”

“We are going to have dinner together when they get back.”

“Back?”

“They’re attending a dentistry conference at La Castille,” she told him. A split second later she was yelling at herself inwardly for being so open, for sharing personal details with a stranger, but oddly she didn’t regret any of it.

“Oh. Would you like an escort back to your hotel?”

“Thank you but you don’t have to sir.”

“I want to.” After a brief pause he added, “My name is Carlisle.”

“My name’s Hermione.”

**~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~**

 

It did not turn out to be the last time their paths crossed. In fact Carlisle was surprised when he found himself trailing behind a particular young female a second and then a third time. He realized he was subconsciously searching out for her scent, seeking her out. He was horrified when he recognized what his instincts had been doing, hunting down an innocent female child. Was she his singer? No, she wasn’t. He did not feel any cravings to rip her flesh and consume her blood. He simply wanted… her company, he supposed.

Not for the first time Carlisle wished Edward or Alice was in Barcelona. Was there something different about Hermione? Did she feel the same connection towards him? Was that why she was willing to be in his company? Most modern children were specifically warned about adult predators, pedophiles. Carlisle did not have any sexual desire towards Hermione; she was a child. He simply enjoyed being with her. She was very bright with unexpected knowledge and insight into more obscure college-level subjects. It was refreshing to discuss history and philosophy with someone who relished deconstructing and reconstructing events and beliefs. There was something about her…

He sighed and tried to push the faint yearning aside. She was a child who would be going back to London with her parents tomorrow morning. Carlisle had said his farewells when they met earlier in the evening. He too would be flying back to Maine to rejoin his family. Usually he felt eager to meet and catch up with them after a separation but this time he felt oddly reluctant. He did not want to leave this unusual conundrum behind. He wanted to know why he was so drawn to Hermione.

Part of him wanted to her to London, to meet her parents and family, to become closer, but he couldn’t. He had been in London twenty years ago and there was too much chance he’d be recognized by an old colleague. Besides, he had to go back to his family.

Carlisle Cullen pushed the memories of Hermione back and began compartmentalizing them. He was going back to his family and by consensus the Cullens would be spending the next fifty years moving around North and South America. There was little to no chance of him meeting Hermione again and a part of him regretted. But he did not want anyone else to know about her. Edward to hear his thoughts on her odd but sharp insights. Jasper to know his odd attraction to her. Alice to see potential disaster. He loved his family but he needed his space, time when he wasn’t the ‘Father’, the head of the Cullen Family. All of them agreed with his private trips and agreed not to pry into what he did and where he went. It worked well. Whenever any of them felt the need for solitude they took off for a few months and returned in better moods. Now his private retreat had come to an end and it was time to return home.

**~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~**

 

Hermione had not wanted to leave Barcelona. Correction, she had not wanted to leave Carlisle. But she knew it would come to an end, that she had to go home and he had to go back to his family. She winced faintly at the stab of envy she felt, towards his wife Esme and his adopted children. They got to spend time with him. She was alone in London.

“Hermione, are you all right luv?”

The old Hermione would have replied in affirmative, to make her parents feel better. The new Hermione, who Carlisle had coaxed into sharing her feelings, she was more honest. “Not really.”

“Why not?” her mother asked.

She thought about possible answers and decided to settle on a half-truth. “I made a friend. I miss him.”

“Did you exchange numbers? Addresses?” her father asked. Hermione shook her head. “Why didn’t you?” he asked in exasperated tones.

Hermione just shrugged. How could she explain to her parents that her friend was an adult man, a total stranger? How could she explain the connection between them, the understanding and acceptance she felt in him? He was an adult and she was a child. He probably had just been indulging her. He could never feel the same way. Why should he? He was a doctor, married with kids. She was just a child. So why was she feeling so strongly towards him? It wasn’t a crush. She didn’t feel any butterflies in her tummy like Tammy Johnson said. She just wanted to be with Carlisle. Tears pooled in her eyes as she gulped and tried to stifle a sob.

“Hermione!”

She could hear the chairs scraping on tile, feel her mum hug her close whisper soft soothing comforting words that made no sense. And then she heard the flapping of wings and soft hoots. She looked up and saw a grey speckled owl perched on the window sill above the kitchen sink. And there was a letter tied to its foot.

“Mum, there’s an owl sitting on the sill!” she squeaked.

All three Grangers watched, slightly baffled, as the owl flapped its wings and glided over to land in the middle of the kitchen table. Then it waddled slowly towards Hermione and stuck its leg out. The one with the letter tied to it.

Who on earth could have sent this letter? And by owl delivery no less! Hermione knew carrier pigeons and various hunting birds had been trained to carry messages but an owl? How odd!

Her mum was the first to react, to remove the letter from the owl and place the folded parchment flat on the table. There was an odd quartered crest with the letter H sealing the flap. It was addressed in green ink.

Miss Hermione Granger,  
Blue Bedroom, Second Floor,  
45 Ridgeway Lane, Crawley

All thoughts of Carlisle Cullen flew from her mind in favour of this new intriguing oddity.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I definitely do not advocate introducing yourself to an older stranger, especially if you are a child and underage, not without introductions from a trusted adult. This is simply for plot purposes, to start the unseen connection between the two. The next time they interact Hermione will definitely be of age.


End file.
